The Power of the Dog

WRITERS GARDEN

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I beg you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But...you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
When its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept "em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong.
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Rudyard Kipling

Moonlight
             
The sun sets, another day goes by
Melancholic air hangs over the ocean
Yet, the world is not filled with darkness
Pale white light seeps through the twilight

Pearly drops reflecting on the water
Shimmering luminescence on the ripples
Icy cold all through the night
Until the sun rises, another day begins

Then the night approaches once more
But the moon has a different shape tonight
There is no dazzle like the sun
More like a mellow beam, pale and white
Moonlight
 
Malini
Srikrishna (7-A, SKCH-CBSE)

The ugly caterpillar

She was a lonely caterpillar
Always away from the crowd
Too small. Too different. Too ugly.
So she stayed in her own little world
She wished for others to see the real her
She yearned for many pleasures
To laugh. To dance. To fly.
But no, she was just an ugly caterpillar
One day she spun a cocoon
It was the golden chrysalis of change
A wonder. A miracle. A metamorphosis.
She didn't come out an ugly caterpillar
But as a beautiful butterfly

Malini Srikrishna (12 years)
SKCH - CBSE 

Happiness

The flowers are Blooming
The Butterflies are Flying
While I am Singing
 The Flowers are Laughing
The butterflies are Dancing
While I am Enjoying
 
Sanjana Mugalvalli
III "c" CBSE
Sri Kumaran
Children's Home